The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1887-04-27
Story OF a Sar,line.

i Wab III uIbt-clhSS IestuuThub uiu-
ing with friend, and feeling in q gen.
erous mood, called for a box of sar-
dimes
"Mind, now," said to the waiter, IL
want the genuine article, none of the
down-East imitation"
"Very we'll"
He disappeared and soon returned,
bringing what seemed to be the real
thing called for, picked up our check,
replaced it with one calling for fifty
cents more, smiled, and retired.
"Ahl" 1 said, tipping back the lid,
which had been skillfully opened by
the waiter, "here is food fit for king
Look" L added, turning the box about
so that my companion could read the
legend neatly inscribed on the gilt
band encircling the sardine box-G
Phuille d'Oliue-"no imitation about
that, ell. Try one."
My friend thrust his glittering fork
into one of the tempting morsels,
when, to the astonishment of us both,
it began to work its gills and wiggle
its inns and tail. It's eyes snapped
viciously. My friend was about to drop
his fork in amaZement, believing the
fish to be bewitched, when to our won
der it suddenly spoke out in low but
Ineligible voice:
81 am no sardinep
"What are you?" / asked excitedly.
only herring, harmless little
herring" it replied innocently. Il
never saw France; don't even under
stand the language of the label on the
box that recently contained me; L
hot Ol, ,o 1N,,t
if you want any information concerning
cotton seed you can consider me au-
thority."
BY this time my friend had somewhat
recovered his self-possession, and, lay
ing the talking fish tenderly upon his
plate, waved his hand and said, in an in
terested way: go on; you seem to be
quite entertaining
Entertaining o, no." replied the
little herring, with diffident look;
mot at all never had q college edu-
cation; if had might not have been
boxed up here with my unfortunate
friends, but might have been editing
grocery journal, exposing canned
goods frauds and other abuses. No, L
am only little herring-a very small
fish from the coast of Maine"
From Maine?"
ayes, Maine. / would not have to
get naturalized even to vote; but then,
you see. there isn't many people who
know the difference. There's many
noble young fellow in this country who
cuts off his horses tail drives and
talks English, who would pass for a
genuine cockney in Zululand. Yes, L
am down-East Yankee from Eastport."
"Eastport?" calculated.
Eyes, close to Canada, where a good
many so-called sardines would like to
be in certain emergencies. L wish L
was back there to-day frisking in my
native element; but L am doomed it
seems, to not only be devoured 10y our
good friend here, but to tickle his
palate as / go down with a genuine
sardine flavor. No, am no sardine; L
am only herring-a harmless little
herring from Maine"
We were fast growing interested.
"You see" continued our fishy little
friend, "some smart fellows down East
found out by experiment how they
could make me taste so much like the
real French article that no American
could tell the difference, so they went
into the business on large scale. The
cotton-fields of the South furnish the
seed-this makes the oil in which we
are boiled, spiced, and made to taste so
delicious. Take nip at mel There,
now, you wouldn't dream that you had
the taste of cotton in your mouth,
would you? But it's there all the
same. No sardine? No Phuilte
dOliUe-only cotton-seed oil and
harmless little herring
Money in us? Yes, should think
so. Let me see; we cost about five
cents box-a whole box of us, just
think! The packer sells us at profit
of from five to seven cents; the retailer
sells us at about thirty cents, and by
the time we get to you on the
restaurant table we are worth fifty
cents. Not bad for a poor little Yankee
herring, is it? And the Phltilie de
cotton, in which we are immersed, is
none of the best either. "-GrOcerS'
Criterion.